All Hands, Below Deck
by Timeless23
Summary: Henry's safe and Neverland's behind them. The journey back is easy, but Hook's feelings for Emma are not. He wants her, in his bed. He has her, in his heart. Screw being a gentleman. The battle for Emma Swan has begun, and he'll have her even if he has to fight the woman herself. After all - a man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets
1. Resistance

**A/N: Yes, I'm starting another one and no, I probably shouldn't be. But unfortunately these two idiots have way too much chemistry and give me one too many ideas that I can't resist writing out. This fic will be a multi-chap and I'll be working on it when I need some time away from the on-off again relationship I have with my other fic - Looking For Trouble.**

**This story won't be that long. It's based post-Neverland, having found Henry. The gang are on the journey home aboard the Jolly Rodger, where our favourite pirate is trying to seduce our favourite sheriff into finally being with him. And she is still trying to fight him on it.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own none of these characters or OUAT - it's all Adam and Eddy's masterpiece!**

* * *

**Part 1: Resistance**

* * *

She exited her cabin quietly, frustrated at all the lack of sleep she was getting.

Everyone else seemed to be zoned out completely. Now that Henry had been found, the long journey home had begun. Unlike their voyage here, as they sailed away from Neverland, the atmosphere had been considerably lighter, everyone could breathe a little easier and sleep a lot heavier. Thanks to Regina and Rumpelstiltskin, the ship had been spelled to follow the coordinates for their journey during the night so Hook could get some shut eye too. Without another bean and portal to provide a short cut, they would have to sail their way to the edge of Neverland, following the stars for guidance - until they reached the passage through the realms. The fairies had promised them they'd know it when they see it, and once they safely made it through there, they would be able to pass through to their own realm.

Rubbing her eyes blearily she didn't notice when light footsteps approached from behind.

"Swan, shouldn't you be asleep?"

_Figures he'd be up_.

He always seemed to be up. She wondered if the pirate every actually slept. She'd caught him up on deck numerous times when dreams of Henry had been haunting her, and was beginning to wonder if he had some kind of nocturnal complex.

_Which wouldn't work since he doesn't sleep during the day either._

"Shouldn't you?"

"Touche," he studied her carefully. "Lass, most people having been what you've just gone through would be a mess. Least of all knocked out like the rest of your little troop"

She shrugged. Sensing he wasn't going to back off without an explanation she rolled her eyes, "I couldn't get comfortable, I guess your old crew weren't too kind to their beds"

He snorted, "I don't doubt it. A few of them had a penchant for removing the springs and replacing them with loot they'd acquired over time"

"Of course they did"

The half-laced sarcasm was not what he'd expected, and was more a testament to how tired she was.

"You know Swan, there are other options" He'd shuffled closer, his expression serious as though providing a genuine offer. But even in her sleep-rumpled state Emma noticed the wicked gleam to his eye.

"You're always welcome to use mine"

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow, "Yes, you've made that offer clear since the moment I stepped on deck"

"And you've yet to take me up on it princess," he watched as her mouth twitched at the title, knowing how much she hated it. "After all," his mouth suddenly found its way next to her ear, "my bed is your bed"

Turning his head in towards her, she found herself being assaulted by the rich salty scent of the sea. Mixed with rum. The result was rather intoxicating, and Emma completely forgot how tired she was for a second. He hadn't made any move to fall back, and if she were to turn a little to her left they would be nose to nose against each other.

She couldn't remember why that would be a bad thing.

_Typical Hook._

He'd been flirting with her since they'd met, and it only become more and frequent and shameless since they'd started their journey aboard the Jolly Rodger. He'd suffered more than one punch from her father and herself.

And yet it only seemed to goad him on.

What wasn't typical was how recently the flirting had grown more intense. And she'd even found herself flirting _back_.

She had no idea what happened, but somewhere along the line, that spark that had ignited on that beanstalk had started slowly burning into a full grown flame. The heat that was simmering beneath the surface of every new touch, smirk and stare between them. It was almost mocking them at this point, as if to say _get on with it_. At least before Emma could tamper it down by thinking of Henry and the mission to get him back.

Now he was back.

And she was running out of excuses.

And she had a feeling Hook knew that.

"Okay," she barely knew she'd said it, until she did. Hook fell back – more startled by her response than she was. "Let's go then"

And with that she headed for his cabin, the pirate hot on her heels.

* * *

There was silence as they got ready for bed.

If he was any more shocked that she had actually taken him up on his offer, he didn't show it. As soon as they'd entered he'd gestured for her to make herself comfortable and went about getting himself ready to sleep.

She noticed he was eyeing his Hook, seeming unsure about taking it off, possibly not used to having an audience while doing so.

"Take it off."

Startled – for the _second _time by the woman he claimed he could read like a book – he just looked at her questioningly.

"Just take it off," she nodded her head at him.

He smirked at her fully before she could comprehend what she'd said.

"Well if you insist Swan," his hand moved to the buttons of his shirt and started undoing them quite quickly considering he was only using one set of fingers. "If you want a show, I won't be one to deny you"

_Cocky git._

"That's not what I meant and you know it"

Still she found it hard to look away when his shirt made it to the floor. His physique really was quite _impressive_…

"Judging by the way you're staring love, I'd wager this was exactly what you meant"

His words snapped her out of it and she rolled her eyes. "You are so damn full of yourself"

Stalking over to him, she made to grab his arm – with the hook attached, but found it winding itself around, effectively locking her in his embrace.

"Well here we are again lass," his eyes bore into hers, the intensity with which he looked at her almost making her breathless. Moving a stray hair from her face, he rested his hand in her hair stroking the strands softly, "no giant traps this time around," she could literally feel his breath on her lips as he came closer, "no family to interrupt…no beasts to attack…no Neverland around us…" the seductive tone to his words not lost on her, "are you _still_ going to deny this?"

Was she?

Whatever the hell _this_ was she didn't know. All she knew was that she did want him.

Very much so.

Whatever question her mind posed about him, her body would instantly betray it, yearning for him and his touch.

There had been a few times she'd given in, secret encounters in the forests of Neverland. Their lips fused together in the heat of the moment, bodies pressed up close, hands wandering everywhere and anywhere. They had never crossed the line though, her resistance always pulling them back.

And yet she still kept coming back to him again.

Moving her hands over his chest, almost stroking him as they came to rest at his shoulders. She watched as he closed his eyes, biting back a moan at her touch. But still he didn't close the gap between them; that would be her call.

_Her_ decision.

"I came here to sleep."

The emphasis on the final word had him letting her go, disappointed that they would not be ending this dance tonight. Emma felt weary, though not for sleep as she claimed. At this point she was too buzzed to knock out as she had wanted to.

Seeing him reluctantly start to undo his hook and attachment, she idly looked around his quarters. She'd been in here before when discussing which parts of the island to hit next in their search and had always found them rather plush for a pirate captain's quarters.

But then, he was the captain. And he was a _pirate_.

There were many ways he could have seen fit to accommodate himself with finer living arrangements than the norm. She noticed at this point that the only light from the room was coming from a low light lamp by his bedside. It provided enough light for the room, but was dimmed enough to create a certain ambiance.

_Kind of like mood lighting_.

Turning to question him, she froze.

Her jaw dropped.

Words escaped her.

Hook stood before her.

In all his glory.

_Naked_.

Completely and utterly

_naked_.

She really shouldn't have…but hell if she could help it! Her eyes wandered over his entire form. Top to bottom.

_Oh my_.

For a man whose arrogance over his looks and prowess could border on obscene at times, looking him over now, she found she really couldn't argue with him. Chiseled features, toned chest, powerful thighs, muscular biceps – that she'd felt under her hands on more than one occasion.

He was _magnificent._

Truly striking in every way. She'd forgotten to stop staring at this point, it was hard not to. There was not a single thing about him that could stop her, not even the stunted arm of his that she noticed he'd partially hidden with the angle he was standing at.

Feeling every part the voyeur already, she really couldn't avoid perusing the entire _package_ that was Captain Hook. As her eyes drifted distinctly lower of their own volition she realized just how much he really could be cocky about.

_Holy shit…_

The room suddenly felt really _really _hot.

She could feel every layer of clothing she was wearing, and it all felt like too much. Which was saying something considering all she had on was a thin tank and pajama pants.

"You know love, it's rude to stare."

Her head snapped to his and she wanted to slap herself. He had the most egotistical look on his face yet, a salacious smirk that was practically screaming that he knew.

That she _wanted _him.

Despite all her protests and defiance and pseudo-annoyance, Emma Swan wanted Captain Hook.

Like in her pants.

STAT.

God she could kill herself right now.

To make matters worse she could feel herself flushing, her face probably resembling the world's brightest tomato at this point. And if she had been praying that Hook hadn't noticed then she was shit out of luck judging by the way his expression transformed to a sly grin. His eyes were practically sparkling with mirth.

"You know _pirate_, it's also rude to be indecent around company"

"Sweetheart, you just molested me with your eyes and you're claiming _I'm_ being indecent"

"I was NOT molesting you"

"I don't blame you princess, I've been told I'm rather startling…_striking_ even"

"You're not that hot Hook…"

"Then why can't you take your eyes off me?"

"I'm looking at you because I'm talking to you, you egotistical ass! It's called common courtesy"

"Try saying that without licking your lips"

"My mouth was dry!"

"That's a poor excuse, even for you Swan"

"It's not an excuse you damn jerk"

"My eyes are up here lass"

"Urgh whatever! Put your damn clothes back on"

"I thought you wanted to sleep?"

"YES I do!"

"Well this is how I sleep"

"You sleep. In. The. Nude."

He smirked.

Of course he did.

_Bastard._

She hated the way he was looking at her right now.

Shameless asshole.

She felt like he was trying to prove a point. Like having him in close quarters with her, without a stitch of clothing was somehow going to make her jump him like some horny teenager.

Well that was NOT going to happen.

"Hate to break it you _Hook_ but no way are you sleeping like that tonight." He raised an eyebrow as though daring her to continue, "I am not sleeping in a bed with a naked you. So find your pants because that is not happening"

He laughed.

He actually _laughed_.

"In that case Swan you're welcome to get comfy on the floor. I decide how I sleep in _my_ bed, and if that is too uncomfortable for your delicate princess sensibilities then I suggest you find somewhere else to sleep for the night"

Shocked, she watched as he turned to get into bed…and tried and failed not to notice his fantastic behind.

He'd slipped under his covers, his arms folded behind his head, completely at ease and watching her like a hawk. He was waiting for her reaction – and she realized what he was doing.

He was goading her.

She had constantly denied this thing between them for so long, and he'd given her a chance to admit to it a few minutes ago. In rejecting to do so he was now pushing her buttons. On purpose. Challenging her to keep up the ruse between them.

And it was working.

Dammit.

The way he was looking at her was maddening. The self-assured cocky manner he was holding himself, the confident look in his eyes, that knowing smirk on his face practically screaming with smugness. He had her exactly where he wanted her. All flustered and pretty much swooning at his fucking feet. It had clearly stroked his ego to bounds beyond even she thought he had.

And there was no way she was going to let it stand.

No.

Two can play that game.

"Fine."

She spied two eyebrows shooting up from the corner of her eye, as she threw aside the covers and hopped in. Making sure to act completely nonchalant, she made herself comfortable, knowing he was watching her every move.

Carefully.

Killian didn't know what move she was making but he would be lying if he denied that her sudden acquiescence didn't unnerve him.

Watching her he noticed how the soft lighting bounced off her hair in the most ethereal glow. The soft curls cascading down her shoulders…what he wouldn't give to run his hand through them, fisting them between his fingers in the midst of passion.

And it would be _passionate._

There was no doubt about that.

His Swan was a force to be reckoned with. Strong, determined, a will hard enough to contend with his own. And she often did. With words, with weapons – either way there was always a constant heat between them.

And he for one wanted it done with.

He wanted to _take_ her.

Wanted to show her how all that passion, the lust, that never ending _hunger_ that he had for her, could be used to bring them both more pleasure than they'd ever known.

He knew she desired him just as much. The craving she had to end this seemingly endless dance with him was there. He knew it. But she was still fighting it.

It wasn't in her nature to just give in.

Not to anything.

Or anyone.

But this once she was going to have to make an exception.

Because he sure as hell wasn't giving up.

Screw being a gentleman.

_A man not willing to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets._

Lost in his thoughts, his desires of what he wanted to do to her, he noticed too late that she was watching him back.

Those beautiful green eyes of hers gazing intently into his own. Almost like she knew what he was thinking. _Oh if only…_

She would know soon enough. The way she had looked at him earlier – no woman had truly seen him in such a way since…ever. Not since he'd gained a hook and a villainous reputation. There had been many women since Milah that had eyed him with the look of desire, with lust and appreciation that had them in his bed quicker than they could blink. Yet no one had looked at him like Emma. The look of complete unconditional awe.

The way she was looking at him _now_.

Her curls fanned out on his pillows exactly as he had pictured them numerous times. The soft glow surrounding them, the small smile on the corner of her lips. She looked at him from under those long thick lashes of hers.

He memorized every inch of this moment, ingraining the picture to memory. Emma Swan looking all kinds of sweet and vulnerable and bloody beautiful - _maddeningly_ so that he never wanted her to leave his sight.

And then she moved.

Closer.

Inching nearer to him, bit by bit…

…her lips coming ever so close to his.

His heart began thundering within his chest.

Her tongue darting out to run, oh _so slowly_ over her bottom lip…

…so very close…

Feeling her breath on him he closed his eyes leaning in, yielding to her tempting offer.

Disbelief that it was _finally_ happening.

Finally

…

only

…it never came.

Confused, he looked at her.

A hairsbreadth away.

With a full blown _smirk_ on her face.

"You wanna put that light out now?"

She couldn't have done it better than if she'd thrown a bucket of ice cold water all over him.

Refusing to acknowledge the double entendre, he scowled as he turned over to blow out the candle. It was almost poetic how he extinguished the flame as she had just done to him.

_Fucking Swan._

_Bloody temptress._

She was like a siren with her soft feminine wiles and seductive eyes – all likely to bring a man to his early doom.

Hearing her chuckle as she turned her back on him, he sighed.

He almost had her.

Or not.

He never had her.

And at this rate he never would. This constant battle of desire had been going on too long, and it wasn't just that he wanted her in his bed. He wanted _all_ of her. And as much as he liked to think himself a patient man, it was getting harder to push down his feelings for the blonde saviour by his side. And easier to doubt that she felt anything at all for him.

There was only one thing left for him to do.

He was going to have to step up the challenge.

Starting tomorrow, he was going to do everything in his power to have her succumb to him.

Looking at her back, he raised an eyebrow in thought.

_Why start tomorrow?_

Moving closer knowing she'd sensed his movements nearing her, he whispered. Softly enough to make her shiver, loud enough that she didn't miss a word.

"Just so you know Swan, I tend to _reach out_ in my sleep…so should you _feel _anything through the night, don't say I didn't warn you."

He smirked as he moved back onto his side.

_That should do it_.

Not even a second later he heard her speak up.

"Just so you know _Jones_, I tend to kick out in my sleep…so should I hit _somewhere specific_ in the night, don't say I didn't warn _you_."

Right.

So he'd start tomorrow.

* * *

**Reviews make my world go round.**

**Seriously.**

**:)**


	2. Surprise

**Part 2: Surprise**

* * *

Emma stirred from the bed. Sighing contentedly she opened her eyes, feeling well rested for the first time in a long _long _time. It felt peaceful, and though she wouldn't say it – it was definitely deserved. After spending so long taking on one disaster after another, the rest was years overdue. She felt like since the day Henry had found her, life was just throwing her one curveball after the next; endless dramas, magical chaos, fairytale catastrophes. Yeah, life had been one cold bitch for the most part (if she didn't count Henry finding her and being reunited with her parents of course). So to get up feeling like she could finally slow down and take in a moment and _not_ have to worry about impending doom – well that kind of morning was a huge success in her book.

Now, if only she could move.

Seriously.

She blinked confused for a moment.

She felt warm. Cozy and snug like she was wrapped up in a swaddle of blankets. It was _nice_. Comfortable.

And it…was breathing?

Her eyes widened. _Oh shit._ Tossing a look over a shoulder, she was met with Hook's face. Really close.

Dangerously close.

Trying not to wake him, because god knows he would have a field day with this, she tried to move as little as possible while evaluating their positions. Somehow during the night he had managed to find his way over to her side of the bed, and somehow she had managed to not make good on her promise and _let_ him.

_Is this shit for real?_

He was currently lying with his entire front pressed up to her back, his good hand casually strung over her waist, his face practically nuzzling her hair. She in turn was lying back into his embrace, with her legs tangled up in his.

What. The. Fuck.

How did she _allow_ this? Asleep or not, Emma liked to think that she had a pretty good awareness of herself at all times and in all states of consciousness. She should have stopped this. She was usually such a light sleeper, how in all the hells had Hook managed to worm his way around and fucking _cocoon_ her without her noticing? She hadn't felt his arm on her, or his breath on her neck, or felt her legs brushing the outside of his.

Maybe she was broken?

Completely void of being able to feel anything inside or out? _Wouldn't that be fitting_, the thought left a bitter aftertaste in her mind. And it certainly held no weight considering she could feel every single part of him in that precise moment.

It should have felt really awkward.

Instead it just felt really intimate.

If she hadn't been wearing clothes, she would've woken up wondering what the hell she'd gotten up to in his bed last night. It was all too close and wreaking of a snuggling-after-sex scenario. And she didn't even _do_ snuggling. The last time she'd ever felt the naïve need for that was over a decade ago with a guy who came with a cheeky smirk and a penchant for thievery.

_I guess some things never change_, she figured, eyeing her bed partner.

However it had happened, and she needed right now for it to _un_-happen.

Like right now.

She just had to work out how to do that without making Hook aware of their current predicament. Looking over at the sleeping pirate in bed with her, she couldn't help but notice how utterly different he looked while he was asleep. His face completely at ease. The worries and dark thoughts often lining his face had been smoothed out, the haunted look in his eyes was gone. There was a serene air about him, his lips drawn out without expression – or that godforsaken smirk – his hair ruffled in his sleepy wanderings, sticking out on one side. It all seemed so boyish and innocent and almost _sweet._

All those things he prided himself on _not_ being.

_Figures,_ she snorted.

Still. As much as she wanted to, there was no denying that this side of him had a certain appeal. He was not Hook.

He was Killian Jones.

Who was boyish and sweet at some point (she wasn't too sure about the innocent part, that smirk was just a little too sinful to have procured overnight).

It was hard to try and picture what he might have been like back then. A different sort of person. A guy that was younger - full of cheek, flirtation and enjoyment for life. A regular pirate – with a code, who had managed to do the unexpected and fall in love. And fall _hard._ So hard that he spent 300 years trying to avenge the loss of that love. His revenge had always seemed like such an ugly evil obsessive anger to most people. She imagined that's why even her parents had found it hard to form a truce with him in Neverland. But she had never quite seen it that way. To her it was strangely _beautiful_. To have loved someone so much that having them torn from your life led you down a dark path to do _anything_ and_ everything_ humanly possible to find the justice they deserved. To love someone so much that for three hundred angst filled years, their ghost still haunts you, their absence fills you to the point that you can focus on nothing but avenging them.

He had loved Milah more than words could say.

Emma knew that simply from the man he is now. The things that he had done.

She had always believed that actions speak louder than words. And looking at Hook, his actions contradicted his words more often than not. He gave off airs of being a survivor, but he had hoped to reunite with Milah when Rumplestiltskin went at him. He flirted with women like the world's number one womaniser, but the whole act of his revenge and his focus on that only proved what a complete monogamist he really was. And for someone who was convinced that he was better of alone he was always making sure she never felt that way, always reassuring her that he understood her.

Even when no one else did.

The man behind the words was a hell of a lot more complicated than the words belied themselves.

And she couldn't help that feeling inside, that spark of curiosity – and _something else_ – that made her want to indulge herself in him. Get to know him better. Understand him. Know the man behind the actions, not the man uttering the words.

But she had her own problems with that train of thought.

And quick as a flash, she got rid of it.

_He is not for you Emma._

Taking one last look, she got a grip and started adjusting their positions.

Being careful not to make any sudden movements, she started to retract her legs slowly from his. If she could just get them onto the floor, then she could slide the rest of herself out from his grasp.

Which was quite strong considering.

Emma was having real trouble trying to shift his arm from around her.

_How can he have such a bloody strong grip when he's asleep?_

Placing her hand on top of his, she tried prying his fingers off one by one. When that didn't work, she attempted to interlock their hands and coax it away from her body. Again, no joy. Huffing, she tried stroking his hand slightly in efforts to soothe it off herself. It seemed to work for a moment. His fingers seemed to stretch out a little as though making to move off. She heard a soft sigh from behind her and stilled immediately, thinking that he was about to wake. He shifted a little, his feet stretching back to hers as he dropped his head back into the crook of her neck, inhaling slowly but without waking as she'd thought. If anything he was wrapped right back around her as before.

_Just fucking great_.

Thinking things couldn't get any worse, she stiffened as his hand suddenly moved from its casual position around her stomach, and drifted north.

Landing soundly…

…on top of her breast.

_I am going to _kill_ him_.

Reaching for his hand, she grabbed it and wrenched it backwards.

Hard.

"What the-"

His hand immediately tore from hers as he sprang up in bed. He looked so disorientated that she would've laughed…if she wasn't so pissed off at him.

"Love if you wanted my undivided attention, I could think of better uses for those hands of yours"

"You're lucky you still have that hand!"

He looked over at her confused for a moment before that smirk made its way back onto his face. She could feel her eyes preparing to roll right out of her sockets. She hated that he insisted of getting up close and personal all the damn time. She hated that her body reacted immediately. And she_ really _hated that he managed to look so damn good at the bloody crack of dawn. Seriously? Was there ever a time that he didn't look like he'd just rolled off a magazine cover?

And why was he looking at her like that...his eyes searching for something in hers. What was he expecting to find? She had no idea what he was looking for but what surprised her more was that she actually let him.

"I do quite like the look of you in my bed first thing in the morning Swan"

His eyes dropped almost lazily to her lips.

She moved closer. They were nose to nose.

"Well…don't get used to it"

Smirking softly at the slight surprise in his eyes, she moved to get out of bed.

Only to be blocked by a sleep-ruffled pirate with a huge grin on his face.

"Actually, I _very _much intend to"

And before she could think, his lips were on hers, stealing her very breath like the pirate he was. She could have pushed him away, could've held on for dear life. But as always when it came to him, her indecision halted her ability to move forward. By the time she found it in her to catch her breath, he'd already left the bed and headed for the bathroom.

Without looking back once.

_Damn._

* * *

"Emma are you feeling okay?"

The blonde sheriff tried not to groan. Her mother was a lot of things. Snow White. Princess. Wife. Mother. Fighter. Badass. And most of all _worrier. _

It had to be the tenth time she'd asked her if she was okay and Emma was trying to remember that she loved her mother, that she had only just found her, and that she really shouldn't want to throttle her.

"I'm _fine_"

"Okay, okay. I just…you seem a little distracted"

Snow watched her daughter carefully. Really carefully. The problem with Emma was that she had the ability to carefully craft all her features into whatever she _wanted _you to see, rather than what she was actually feeling. Snow already felt like she'd failed mothering her only daughter, leaving her alone all these years. Whether for the greater good or not, it killed her every day that she had to miss out on so much with her.

She didn't plan to miss out on any more.

And Snow White didn't miss much. Especially the way that her daughter's eyes flicked for a single second to the helm of the ship, before shifting back just as quickly.

"I'm just tired, that's all" Emma smiled back at her.

_Right._ Snow was pretty sure that she wasn't the first mum that was ever lied to by their child. And she was more than pretty sure that the captain standing at the helm who her daughter's gaze kept drifting to – however unwittingly – was the centre of Emma's distraction.

She'd seen a lot of the interaction between the pirate and her daughter. She'd been there from the very first day when they'd found him amidst the rubble of the campsite in the Enchanted Forest. Watched the pirate flirt with her daughter all the way up the beanstalk. Heard how he'd had her back against a giant, despite his less than virtuous reputation. Seen the look on Emma's face when he's made the speech about the dried up bean – how he wouldn't have betrayed her. He hadn't lied, she knew that much when she saw Emma's face drop.

It seemed Emma was always leaving Hook behind. On the beanstalk. In the hospital. In Manhattan. She'd watched as despite all that the pirate still had a penchant for showing up wherever Emma was. And despite his self-made villainous title, his years of scheming for revenge and undeniable reputation as an all-around _bad guy_ – she found it constantly surprising, that he would stop all his supposed misdeeds to take the time to help her daughter. To team up with her somewhat _genuinely_. Which seemed really out of sorts for a villain, really. To actually reveal parts of himself to her. And get her to reciprocate. To be stung by her rejection of his partnership.

The way he had looked at her after she had left him on that beanstalk. Snow had seen that look once before.

On David.

When she had left him behind, after drinking the potion to forget him.

Captain Hook was _hurt_.

Genuinely hurt by the fact that Emma Swan left him behind.

And Snow knew in that moment.

The story between the pirate and her daughter was far from being over.

Judging by the frequent looks the captain had been throwing in their direction – which were most definitely not directed at herself…it was only just beginning.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the wait folks, this story is literally something I'm winging whenever my muse hits me. This chapter was short, but I want to get a sense of where Emma's at in her respect to Killian and the idea of them being anything more than they are.****Next chapter will be from Killian's POV. **

**Thanks for the amazing responses to the first chap - feel free to let me know what you think of this one (hint hint)**

**x **


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